


after hours

by catslikekenma



Series: HQ Swift Week 2020 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bartender Atsumu, Fluff, M/M, i dont know what else to tag omg im so sorry, sakusa loses his job and everything else, very very light and subtle nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26461729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catslikekenma/pseuds/catslikekenma
Summary: Sakusa lost everything else, but he found Atsumu anyway.OR Day 2 of Haikyuu x Taylor Swift Week 2020: Speak Now, Track 1 - Mine
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: HQ Swift Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921786
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	after hours

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't want this to be too long but yes here we go! <3

"Rough night?"

Sakusa scrunched his nose up as he set the shot glass down on the marbled counter, feeling a pair of eyes watch him as he ran a hand down his face. He shouldn't be getting drunk on a Monday night—it was a work night, and the first day of the week, too. But then again, he had no job.

At least, not anymore.

And it's pretty late, but it was alright since no one would look for him, too. The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth as he slid the shot glass towards the other side of the counter, "Hit me."

He watched as the bartender took his glass away and filled it up once again. _Nice hands_ , he thinks. He ignores the gaze that pricks his skin, not really caring what a stranger thought of him. The glass gets placed right back on the table and he doesn't hesitate to gulp it all down in an instant.

"You do know we're closing soon, right?"

Sakusa takes a moment to gather himself as the shot glass made harsh contact with the counter. He takes a deep breath before he looks up, his wavy hair slightly blocking his view—but he sees him. Him with the gold eyes and golden hair, a white cloth in his hand as he wore the uniform that was required of them. ‘Atsumu’ it said on his name tag. He looked pretty—

“Can ya hear me? Don’t puke on the counter please.”

—pretty annoying.

Of course Sakusa’s not going to puke, he’s better than that. He cringes at the thought. At least, he _hopes_ he’s better than that. Letting out a quiet breath, he pushes his hair back with his hand, getting a clearer view of the person in front of him.

He gives Sakusa a wide, teasing smile. He hated it.

“Stop pitying me.”

The words catches him off guard for a moment and worry flashes on Sakusa's face for a quick second but that almost immediately went away when this bastard named Atsumu burst out laughing. He shook his head as he folded the piece of white cloth in his hands.

“Yer funny. Anyway, we’re closing up soon.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes at him as he slid the shot glass towards him again, ignoring the subtle hint that he should stop asking for more drinks and get the hell out of there, “More.”

“If ya came in a little earlier, you’d have more time. Who goes to a bar at 11?” Atsumu shook his head disapprovingly, but poured Sakusa the drink he so desperately needed nonetheless. Sakusa just grumbled in reply as he reached for it, gulping it down just like he did before.

“Too much people.”

The liquid leaves a stinging feeling down his throat, and he hasn't quite decided whether he likes it or not. He clears his throat with an indescribable look on his face.

He hears Atsumu laugh again, and Sakusa wonders who’s really drunk between the two of them. He knows he’s not. That guy probably knows too. Sakusa had been ordering something just bitter enough for him to hate, sweet enough for him to tolerate, but just strong enough to help him cope.

But he supposes not enough to forget.

He feels the buzz kick in and he knows he should stop, but the overwhelming feeling of failure and disappointment hasn’t gone away. He's tried everything but he felt hopeless. Helpless. He thinks there's no end to his suffering, he just hasn't accepted it.

Maybe things were supposed to be this way after all.

He finds himself draping his arm over the counter—not caring about how many people had sat there before him and touched it with their grimy hands as he hunched over and leaned his head on it. _What's the point?_ he asked himself. He hears the soft thumping of chairs, glasses clinking against each other and the quiet breathing of the man that stood on the other side of him.

“I’ll call ya a cab home and—“

“What if you lost your job right now.”

Atsumu stops talking. Sakusa knows he’s staring at him now, but he could care less. He stares at the wall ahead of him, watched as the place slowly brightened up as the staff continued to clean up. He thinks he’s the only customer left. He’s not worried. He knows Atsumu won't throw him out.

The question was—random. Weird.

"What if you just—lose everything right at this moment."

Sakusa doesn’t know if Atsumu will answer. He doesn’t know if he cares. They're both quiet for a second, probably trying to make sense of everything, of Sakusa and his questions.

“Hm. I’d get shit-faced drunk," Atsumu pretended to think, a playful grin on his lips.

Sakusa thinks it’s a jab at him.

“I’m not drunk.”

“And I still have my job,” Atsumu laughed. Sakusa has decided he hates that sound. It rings in his ears and he thinks there’s nothing more annoying than that. He picks his head up from his arm and turns to look at him with an empty look in his eyes. Atsumu could see him clearer under the white light of the bar rather than the dim, colored, flashing ones from before. Sakusa stared at him, a serious look etched on his face.

“But what about everything else?”

The question lingered in the air. Sakusa doesn't look away, doesn't crack a smile, doesn't shed a tear. Atsumu just grinned wider at him, leaning on the countertop as he was finally eye level with the stranger with black hair and _beautiful_ black eyes. Sakusa’s facade falters little by little the more he stared at him.

He swore he’s not drunk.

“I'd still get shit-faced drunk.”

Sakusa gives him a look and he just smiles. There's something about it that he hates.

“I hate you.”

He laughs. Sakusa hates it too.

"I don't even know yer name, stranger," Atsumu pulls back from leaning as he skillfully gathered all the clean glass in his hands. Sakusa watched him for a moment, his hair gently falling on his face. He looks away, pulling his hands away from the counter to shove it in the pockets of his coat.

"You don't need my name."

Atsumu grins, like it's a challenge he'd willingly accept. He finishes up whatever he was doing, wiping his hand with his handkerchief and Sakusa cringes a little when he doesn't fold it the "correct way". Sakusa knows where this is headed.

It was exhilarating. Liberating. Disappointing. He feels like he could do everything and nothing at the same time and it frightens him.

He shouldn’t do this.

He shouldn’t _want_ to do this.

But there's something about his smile that Sakusa hates, or the way his eyes looked so golden, or his laugh that bounced from one wall to another. He's not quite sure yet, but it's there. And frankly, he wants to know what it is.

Everything else is blurry, except the walk to his apartment, the rushed footsteps up the stairs, the keys jangling repeatedly as he hurriedly opened the door. It opens for a swift moment before it gets slammed shut. Sakusa remembers everything so vividly.

He hated crowds and strangers, and everything in between but when he felt those hands touch every inch of his skin for the first time—his cheek, his lips, his chest—he forgets about all of it. His head is filled with nothing but whimpers and quiet moans, of feeling good and letting go. He sees his golden eyes through the darkness and his toes curl in delight, head thrown back as his name comes out as a sob.

He feels different. His touch doesn’t burn on his skin, only lingers. His gaze is straightforward and intense but it’s not unkind. His sly grin and annoying laugh is something Sakusa hated but there's something about it that makes it so endearing.

The feeling of dread and uneasiness comes when morning does and Sakusa waits for regret, so he can tell Atsumu it was a one time thing and he’s not interested and that all of it was a _mistake_ —but it never comes.

Atsumu doesn’t tell him to leave.

Sakusa doesn't walk out the door.

There are burnt eggs and sloppy pancakes on Sakusa's plate. He wonders how Atsumu managed to live on his own like this. But he eats it anyway. He eats it with Atsumu in the comfortable silence that settled over his kitchen, with the sunlight that seeped through his windows and the wind that gently blew through his curtains. He clears his throat and Sakusa knows it's going to come. He doesn't look up, just quietly eats the food on his plate as he stared at it, waiting for the words of consolation and farewell.

"So, Omi—"

He felt his eye twitch as he looked up with an offended expression etched on his face, "It's Kiyoomi."

Atsumu just stared at him, like he just spoke some other language. He then grinned like some sort of sick bastard and Sakusa wanted to slap it off his face.

"Ya weren't complaining last night, though."

"Oh my god—" Sakusa let go of his utensils as he buried his face in his hands. He could hear him laugh so diabolically in the background and Sakusa wanted nothing more than to bury himself six feet under the ground. He tells Atsumu some colorful words while the latter just smoothly returned whatever he was saying, all while being annoying without fail.

Sakusa thought he was a bad idea, but there was something holding him back from leaving. He told himself he'll just stay for a little bit, and then he'll leave.

He's not exactly sure what 'a little bit' meant, but days passed by and he's going out to dinner with him, for the third time.

Weeks passed by and Atsumu's helping him look for a new job.

Months passed by and he's moving in with him.

Sakusa doesn't know what 'a little bit' meant back then, and he doesn't know what it meant now. He's not sure if he still wanted to find out.

Being with Atsumu was—easy. Different. Sakusa hasn't felt that way before; hasn't tried staying up late past midnight for stupid reasons, or sleeping on a couch too small to contain two people, or waking up a little earlier than he usually would just to stare at Atsumu's sleeping face undisturbed.

He admires him, even if he drools in his sleep, even if Sakusa has to wash the pillow cases every damn time he does. He loves him, for all the wrong reasons, for all the bad things.

In the midst of everything that Sakusa had lost, he found Atsumu. In sly grins and annoying laughter, in intense gazes and quiet breaths. Sakusa thinks that must be why he hated him so much—he made everything so easy to forget. He was dangerous. He's got Sakusa by the heart and all he could really do is watch Atsumu hold it so carefully in his hands.

"Hm...I knew it...ya love me..."

Sakusa's eyes are glued to his lips, watching as he spoke the words in his half asleep state. There's a subtle smirk on his mouth but Sakusa doesn't feel an ounce of annoyance. A rare occurence, he thinks.

But it's true. He loves Atsumu, more than he would ever know, more than whatever Sakusa would tell him. He could lose everything at this very moment but he wouldn't care. As long as Atsumu's sleeping soundly by his side every night, as long as he wakes up next to him every day. This is his only request, his only wish, his only prayer.

Sakusa stared at him, eyes darting from every feature on his face before he decides he's had enough and turns his back on him, pulling the covers up to his shoulders as he did.

With a small smile on his lips and an arm that slipped around his waist, he mumbled quietly.

"Unfortunately, I do."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so so so much for reading! i really really appreciate everything so feel free to let me know what you think! <3


End file.
